The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-18 09:56:52 -

The Faded Ruin

The wind through the window of the Council chamber did not blow; it whispered, a low, sibilant thing that carried the scent of ozone and crushed stone. I sat at the head of the long, scarred oak table, my hands resting on the polished surface, feeling the cold seep into my knuckles, a physical anchor against the rising tide of questions. Across from me, Julian Thorne, my second-in-command and...

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